The Bone Cracker

Down below the places where the rich fools play,
Lie the dark-filled spaces where unwilling guests stay,
There's a jailor at the door he's all fingers and thumbs,
Just a-waiting for the hour that the bone-cracker comes.

Bone-cracker's boots falling heavy on the stairs,
As the silent walls ring to the sound of mute prayers,
Sure, the lies hide inside but they never stay hidden,
Don't the truth flow easy when the bones start a-splittin'.

On a cold stone bench there's a figure in gray,
So perfectly content to be here on this day,
And the bone-cracker freezes now that all he can see,
Are the demons standing tall where the witches used to be.

Screams echo out from the dungeon to the keep,
The rich fools quiver, not-a-one o' them asleep,
While the terrible cracking can be heard everywhere,
And the sour smell of fear hangs heavy in the air.

Later when the braver ones break down the door,
All they find inside is a tunic on the floor,
And it rattles to the touch but it isn't full of stones,
Just bloody little pieces of the bone-cracker's bones.

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Great writing thanks and used them here! [wl]285185[/wl]

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